#R&B Singer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xoxorealitygalore · 9 days ago

Text

Trust and Believe VIII

summary: Keyshia and Joe had a seemingly perfect life together after marrying in 2010. However, as their careers grew, so did the strain on their relationship. When Joe cheats on Keyshia. The emotional fallout from the incident leaves their relationship hanging in the balance, with Keyshia questioning if they could ever recover from the betrayal.

Keyshia Anoa’i Spotted at Miami Recording Studio

Grammy-winning singer Keyshia Anoa’i was spotted heading into a recording studio in Miami on Saturday morning.

The R&B icon was seen arriving at the studio in the early hours, dressed in a sleek floor-length black coat with red hearts all over it, paired with black lounge attire, a bucket hat, and a stylish Birkin handbag. Her casual yet fashionable look drew attention, especially as she stepped into the studio building.

Keyshia had never been one for surprises. At least, not ones that caught her off guard in such a profound way. The recording studio was the one place where she felt in control of everything. Her voice, her creativity, her emotions. But this time, the air felt different.

It was heavy with a mix of exhaustion and anticipation, the weight of finishing her tenth album hanging over her like a cloud. She’d spent countless hours in that studio, lost in melodies and lyrics, trying to capture something raw, something real.

But today, she was tired. Her body had long ago given up on rest, the demands of her label, the pressure of deadlines, and the constant buzz of public expectation had worn her thin. She missed her kids. She missed Joe.

As the final notes of the track they’d been working on reverberated through the speakers, Keyshia sighed deeply. The music had come together, but there was still something missing. Maybe it was just her. Maybe she needed more than just success; she needed peace.

She glanced up at the clock on the wall. Almost six in the morning.

Keyshia’s eyes flicked toward the door just as it opened, and she froze. Standing there, silhouetted by the dim light, was Joe. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not today. She was too stressed out to think about what was happening with their marriage.

They’d talked about their marriage. They’d agreed they needed to fix things, to rebuild what had been broken, but this? This felt unexpected. Joe had never been the type to just show up at her studio sessions. That had been one of the things that had faded away over time, like so many other small gestures that used to matter, small moments they shared that slowly slipped away without them even realizing it.

She blinked, staring at him, trying to make sense of it. When was the last time he’d shown up for her like this? The thought nagged at her for a moment. Then it hit her. When did they stop being there for each other long before things went south? She couldn’t excuse his actions, couldn’t forget the betrayal, but in this moment, she understood something about them that she hadn’t fully grasped before: they’d stopped showing up for each other.

Keyshia shook her head slightly, pushing those thoughts away as she walked out of the booth and gestured for her producers to leave the room. It was only then that she realized how long it had been since she had been truly alone with Joe.

"Hey," she said softly, standing in front of him. He seemed a little nervous, a little uncertain, but his eyes never left hers. He held out a breakfast platter from Waffle House.

Keyshia blinked, caught off guard by the gesture.

"Thank you," she said, accepting the food, though her mind was elsewhere. She glanced at the clock again.

"What are you doing here, Joe?" she asked, her voice quiet but laced with confusion. "Is everything okay with the kids? Where are they?"

Joe smiled, a small, reassuring gesture, but his eyes betrayed a hint of sadness.

"The kids are fine. They’re with my mom. I just… wanted to check up on you."

Keyshia nodded, her heart softening slightly. It was rare for Joe to be so thoughtful, so direct in his intentions. But the smile faded quickly, replaced by a knot of anxiety in her stomach.

"Okay," she replied, her voice distant as she sat down. She picked at her food, though the question still lingered in the air between them. What was Joe really doing here?

After a few moments, Joe broke the silence. "How’s the album coming along?"

"Almost done," Keyshia answered, though she didn’t quite feel the satisfaction of finishing it. She didn’t feel anything, really, but tired. "It’s coming together. Sooner than expected."

Joe nodded, but there was something in his expression, a quiet determination that made Keyshia look up from her food.

"Do you think you could leave right now?" he asked, his voice steady, but with an edge of urgency she hadn’t expected.

"Where do you want to go?" Keyshia asked, curiosity piquing in her voice.

Joe didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stood up, and she followed his lead, calling her producers back into the room to inform them that she would be leaving for the day. The uncertainty gnawed at her, but she couldn’t quite find the words to protest. Something about Joe’s presence now felt different like an unspoken promise, even if it was just a fleeting moment. Maybe they weren’t lost entirely.

Joe led her out of the recording studio, and they climbed into his car, the silence between them filling the space in ways that words never could. As the car made its way through the streets of Miami, Keyshia’s mind wandered, but it was a struggle to focus. There was too much on her plate, too much weighing her down.

"Where are we going, Joe?" she asked again, unable to keep the questions bottled up.

"You’ll see," Joe replied, his voice calm, but there was an unspoken anticipation there, a feeling of something changing. She could sense it, even if she didn’t quite understand it.

Minutes passed, and soon they were entering a gated community. Keyshia frowned, her thoughts racing. What was going on? Why did Joe want to bring her here? Her confusion only grew when they pulled into the driveway of a massive, pristine house that almost seemed to shimmer in the soft morning light. It was… well, it was something else entirely.

She turned to Joe, her voice low with disbelief. "Why are we here?"

Joe took a deep breath, his hand resting on the door handle as he looked at her, the weight of the moment pressing in on both of them.

"I sold the penthouse," he said, his voice surprisingly steady. "I realized it was part of our problem. The penthouse, the things, the stuff that didn’t matter… I thought it would fix things, but it didn’t. So I bought this house for us. The house you wanted in the first place. The one I was too stubborn to get."

Keyshia’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at the house, her mind struggling to process the enormity of the gesture. It was everything she had dreamed of, everything she had imagined, a vast, modern masterpiece perched on the edge of Miami Beach, offering sweeping views of the open bay, the skyline, and everything in between. It was stunning. It was breathtaking.

But it was also a commitment. A commitment to something bigger than just a house. It was a statement. A promise that Joe wanted a fresh start. A clean slate.

They got out of the car, and Joe unlocked the front door, inviting Keyshia into the house. She hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. The space was beyond anything she could have ever envisioned.

The walls seemed to pulse with possibilities. The entire home was a work of art. From the sprawling 10 bedrooms and 11.5 baths to the fully automated smart systems that controlled everything from the lights to the temperature, it felt like stepping into another world. The high ceilings, the wide-open spaces, and the floor-to-ceiling windows offered endless views of the bay. It was all too much.

Joe gave her a tour, showing her the staff suite, the luxurious chef’s kitchen, and the massive master bedroom. She followed him numbly, her thoughts in a whirlwind, trying to come to terms with what was happening. She could see the changes Joe had made, the effort he had put into creating something that felt like home.

Finally, they reached the backyard, and Keyshia stepped out onto the patio. The view was nothing short of mesmerizing, the open bay stretched out before her, the water reflecting the glow of the fading dawn. Joe stood beside her, waiting for her response.

"So?" Joe asked, his voice soft but filled with hope. "What do you think?"

Keyshia looked out at the horizon, her heart a mix of emotions. She loved the house, but the magnitude of what it represented was overwhelming. The house was a symbol of everything they had, everything they could have, but also a reminder of everything they had lost.

"I love it," she said, her voice uncertain. "But… Joe, this is a huge commitment. We’re still working through things. This house… feels like so much more than just a house. It feels like… it feels like it’s supposed to fix us."

Joe turned to her, his expression softening. "I don’t expect it to fix us. But maybe it’s a start. A fresh start. Something that feels right. For us. For our family."

Keyshia felt a pang in her chest. A fresh start. That was all she’d ever wanted. But could this house really be the answer to everything? Could this be the first step toward healing, or would it just be another reminder of all the things they had yet to rebuild?

She didn’t know. Not yet. Sometimes, fresh starts don’t come with all the answers.

They came with a leap of faith.

The air in the therapist’s office felt thick, a kind of charged silence hanging over Keyshia and Joe as they sat across from Dr. Malin, their newest therapist.

Keyshia swallowed, glancing at Joe before looking down at her hands. She wasn’t sure what she was hoping for anymore. She wasn’t even sure she knew who she was anymore.

She had always prided herself on being a strong, independent woman who knew her worth and would never tolerate betrayal. But now, as she sat across from Joe and their new therapist, she felt torn in ways she had never imagined possible.

The weight of everything they had been through hung in the air. The long hours spent in silence, the shouting matches, the endless questions that had no clear answers, and the steady, painful unraveling of what they once had. Keyshia was terrified. Not just of losing Joe, but of losing herself.

The therapist, a middle-aged woman with soft eyes and a calm demeanor, had been recommended by their previous counselor, a person who had been there when things started to fall apart, and now, perhaps, someone who could help them rebuild. But as Keyshia sat there, her fingers gripping the arms of the chair, she felt unsure of the path ahead. Every word that left her mouth felt like an admission of weakness, like she was betraying her own strength, her own identity.

She had always been the woman who walked away. The one who didn’t tolerate disrespect. The one who set boundaries and never let anyone cross them. But here she was, sitting in front of a stranger, discussing the most intimate, painful part of her life: Joe’s betrayal. And instead of walking away, she was still sitting here, trying to make sense of it all.

"Keyshia," the therapist said gently, her voice a soft anchor in the storm of thoughts swirling in Keyshia’s mind, "can you tell me what you’re feeling right now?"

Keyshia took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, her gaze dropping to her hands. The space between her thoughts seemed infinite. She had to be honest with herself, but the truth felt like a weight too heavy to bear.

"I’m... struggling," Keyshia began, her voice quiet but steady. "I don't know how to feel. Part of me wants to walk away, but part of me still wants to make this work. I’m torn between what I stand for and what I want. It’s... it’s an inner battle."

She looked up at the therapist, her eyes filled with frustration and pain. "I’ve always prided myself on being the woman who doesn’t put up with shit. You know? I’ve always been the one who would walk away if someone disrespected me. But now... I don’t know if I’m being weak by staying or strong for trying to fight for my family."

The therapist nodded thoughtfully, her gaze never wavering from Keyshia. "It sounds like you're facing a deep internal conflict. You want to protect your sense of self, but you also want to protect your family and your marriage. That’s a difficult place to be."

Keyshia nodded, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Yeah, and I thought I knew who I was. But now, I feel like I’m betraying everything I thought I stood for."

Joe shifted uncomfortably beside her, his eyes locked on the floor. He had been quiet for most of the session, his fingers tapping nervously against the armrest of his chair. He hated seeing Keyshia like this, but he knew he had to own up to his mistakes. He had to explain himself, no matter how hard it was.

The therapist turned her attention to Joe, her voice kind but firm. "Joe, we’ve heard from Keyshia about her struggles, but I’d like to hear from you. Can you tell me why you cheated?"

Joe looked up, his face tense with shame. He hadn’t been prepared for this moment, but he knew it was coming. He had to answer. There was no running from the truth anymore.

"I... I cheated because I was selfish," Joe admitted, his voice thick with regret. "I wasn’t thinking about Keyshia, or our family, or the consequences of my actions. I was just thinking about myself. What I wanted. What I needed. It was a terrible, selfish mistake."

Keyshia’s heart tightened in her chest as she listened to his words. She had heard them before, but hearing them again didn’t make them any easier to swallow. There was a part of her that wanted to scream at him, to accuse him of being heartless. But another part of her, the part that still loved him, that still wanted their family to work, understood that it wasn’t as simple as just anger or betrayal.

Joe continued, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke. "I regretted it the moment it happened. And every day since then, I’ve been ashamed of myself. I hurt her. I hurt the person I love most in this world. And I can never take that back."

The therapist listened quietly, allowing Joe the space to speak. There was no judgment in her gaze, only the soft presence of someone who had heard stories like this before. Her role wasn’t to condemn or absolve, but to help them unpack the layers of pain and misunderstanding that had accumulated between them.

Joe's eyes never left Keyshia’s face as he spoke. He could see the pain there, the cracks that had appeared in her once unbreakable resolve. And it tore him apart. He wished he could take it all back, undo every moment that had led them to this point, but he couldn’t. All he could do was try, every day, to prove to her that he was worth the second chance.

Keyshia stayed silent for a long moment, her thoughts whirling. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust that he was genuinely remorseful. But the pain of his betrayal, of the lies, the secrets, the woman he had slept with was still fresh in her heart. She wanted to forgive him. She wanted to believe that they could move forward, but something inside of her, some primal part of her was terrified.

"I started drinking more," she finally said, her voice soft but matter-of-fact. "It didn’t get out of hand, but it was my way of numbing everything. Of shutting it all out, you know? But I stopped before it got too far. I can’t afford to make any more mistakes. I’ve already been to jail for beating up the woman you cheated with. I don’t want anything else on my record."

The therapist nodded again, her eyes filled with understanding. "It sounds like you're carrying a lot of weight, Keyshia. And it’s not just the betrayal you’re dealing with, but also the fear of losing control. You’re trying to protect yourself, your family, and your reputation. But it's also clear that you're struggling with how to move forward. There’s a lot of emotional turmoil here."

Keyshia nodded, swallowing hard. "I just don’t know how to forgive him. How do I get past the hurt? How do I get past the fact that he... he chose someone else?" Her voice broke on the last word, and she wiped away a stray tear, trying to hold it together. "I’m just... so scared. What if I can’t ever trust him again? What if this is the beginning of the end?"

Joe’s eyes filled with tears, and he reached for her hand. "I don’t have all the answers, Keyshia. I don’t. But I’m here. I’m here, and I want to work through this with you. I want us to heal. I love you. I know I’ve hurt you, but I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it right."

Keyshia met his gaze, her heart a confusing mix of emotions. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that he was truly remorseful and that they could heal together. But the fear of being hurt again, of opening herself up to him only to be let down, felt like an impossible mountain to climb.

The therapist looked at them both, her voice gentle but firm. "It’s clear that both of you want this to work. But healing takes time. Trust has to be rebuilt, and that doesn’t happen overnight. You both have to be patient with each other and with yourselves. It’s not easy, but it is possible. You have to keep communicating, keep showing up for each other. It’s going to be hard, but if you’re both willing to put in the effort, you can start to rebuild what’s been broken."

Joe squeezed Keyshia’s hand, his grip steady. "I’m in this. For real. Whatever it takes."

Keyshia met his gaze, her heart heavy with uncertainty. She wasn’t sure where this journey would lead. But as she looked at Joe, his tears, his vulnerability, his desperation to make things right, something stirred inside her. Maybe they didn’t have all the answers. Maybe they didn’t know exactly how to heal yet. But there was one thing she did know: they weren’t done. Not yet.

The session lasted for hours, each moment filled with pain, regret, and raw emotion. But as the clock ticked on and the sun began to dip lower outside, there was a quiet, fragile sense of hope between them.

keyshiaanoai 1h

The evening air in Miami was humid but warm, the kind of evening that felt both comforting and suffocating in its weight. The glow of the city’s skyline mirrored the restless energy inside Keyshia. She sat across from Joe at a dimly lit, trendy restaurant by the water, her fingers lightly tapping on her glass as the silence between them stretched a little longer than either of them anticipated.

They had just finished their therapy session, the rawness of the conversation still hanging between them. Keyshia’s mind was a whirl of emotions, confusion, anger, exhaustion, but also the smallest flicker of hope. She wasn’t sure what she expected out of tonight, but a quiet dinner seemed like as good a way as any to unwind, to talk more if they needed to, or maybe just to be together without the weight of their history pressing in on them. But now, with every passing minute, the unease was creeping back in.

Joe, seemingly still processing the session, wasn’t speaking much either. His hands rested on the table, his gaze distant. He had apologized again, promised to do better, but Keyshia couldn’t shake the feeling that their lives were being pulled in different directions. Her thoughts circled back to the things they’d said in therapy, about forgiveness, about the future and every time she thought about it, the questions mounted in her mind. Could she really forgive him? Was she ready to move forward, to let go of the past and rebuild their family?

The waiter arrived, setting down their plates with a soft smile, but Keyshia hardly noticed. She barely touched her food, not because she wasn’t hungry but because something felt off.

Joe noticed too. His eyes flicked from his plate to her face, studying her for a moment. “You okay?” he asked quietly, his voice soft, trying to gauge her mood without pressing too much.

Keyshia looked at him, her eyes searching his face as if trying to make sense of everything. “Yeah,” she said, though she didn’t feel it. She wasn’t sure if she could pinpoint exactly what was bothering her, but she couldn’t shake the tension in her chest. “Just... tired, I guess.”

Joe nodded, though he clearly wasn’t convinced. Before he could respond, Keyshia’s gaze shifted to the entrance of the restaurant. Her heart froze in her chest. The world seemed to slow down as a familiar face appeared in the doorway.

It was Tyson.

Her ex-boyfriend. The one she had been with before Joe, the one she thought she’d marry before everything had fallen apart. The one who had left her heartbroken in ways she hadn’t even fully understood until years later, when Joe came into her life and showed her what real love could look like. Tyson had been a part of her past, a chapter she had closed, one she never thought she’d have to revisit.

But here he was, standing in the doorway, and he wasn’t alone.

Tyson was with her.

The woman. The one Joe had cheated on her with. The one whose name had burned into Keyshia’s mind like a scar since she found out about the affair. Her eyes narrowed instinctively, her chest tightening. The woman who had played a role in tearing apart everything Keyshia had worked for, the woman who had become the face of the betrayal.

Keyshia’s stomach churned with a mixture of anger and disbelief. She could feel her blood start to simmer beneath her skin, the old feelings rising like a tidal wave, ready to crash over her. For a split second, she wondered if it was some twisted coincidence, but as Tyson laughed and the woman smiled up at him with that too-familiar affection, there was no denying the reality.

Joe followed her gaze, and the tension in his shoulders stiffened. He didn’t need to ask; he could see it in her eyes. Her face flushed with a mix of rage and humiliation. She could feel the heat of their presence like a physical weight pressing on her chest, suffocating her. It was too much, all of it—the therapy, the rawness of their conversation, the cracks in their marriage and now this.

She wanted to get up, leave, and pretend this moment wasn’t happening, but the feeling of betrayal was too strong. It wasn’t just about Joe anymore. It was about everything, about her dignity, her self-respect, the promise she’d made to herself that she would never, never let anyone make her feel small again.

Without thinking, without even looking at Joe, Keyshia pushed her chair back. The sound of it scraping against the floor felt like a warning shot to the room.

"Keyshia—" Joe’s voice was tentative, but she didn’t wait. She stood up abruptly, the sharpness of her movements causing a few heads to turn. She didn’t even glance back at him. She couldn’t. She needed to escape. She needed air.

She walked briskly past the table, her heart hammering in her chest. The clinking of glasses, the chatter of other patrons, it all felt distant, like she was submerged underwater. Her breath came quick and shallow as she reached the exit.

“Keyshia, wait!” Joe called after her, his voice strained, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t want to stop.

She was already outside the restaurant, stepping into the humid Miami night. The sound of the door swinging closed behind her echoed in her ears, but she didn’t look back.

Keyshia’s mind was a whirlwind as she walked down the sidewalk, the city lights casting long shadows on the pavement. Her hands trembled slightly, but she forced herself to stay steady. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she couldn’t be near that scene any longer. The sight of Tyson and the woman had pushed her to her breaking point.

Her breath came in ragged bursts, her heart pounding in her chest. How was it possible that after everything she’d been through with Joe, after everything they’d said in therapy, after all the pain and the hope, she was still here, haunted by ghosts of the past?

She didn’t want to feel this way anymore. She didn’t want to carry this anger. She didn’t want to feel like the victim in her own story. But right now, with the weight of Marcus and the woman pressing on her, she couldn’t help it. The past wasn’t just haunting her, it was suffocating her. And for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t sure if she could bear it anymore.

She was halfway down the block when she heard footsteps behind her. Joe. Of course, it was him. She hadn’t expected anything different.

“Keyshia, please.” His voice was softer now, more pleading. His breath was labored, as if he’d been running to catch up to her. “You don’t have to do this. Please, let’s just talk.”

She stopped but didn’t turn to face him. She didn’t want to see him. She couldn’t. “I don’t need to talk right now, Joe. I need space. I need air. I need to think.”

“Please, don’t shut me out,” Joe said, his voice cracking slightly. “I know I’ve messed up, but I’m here, I’m trying. I’m sorry. I just—” He trailed off, clearly struggling to find the words.

Keyshia finally turned to face him, her eyes cold, her expression unreadable. “You don’t get it, do you?” Her voice was low but laced with a pain she hadn’t fully realized she’d been carrying. “I’m not just angry at you. I’m angry at me. I’m angry that I’ve let myself stay in this mess. That I’ve let myself be made to feel like I’m not enough. That I let you make me feel small. I’m angry that every time I think I’m over it, it’s like I’m hit with a wave that knocks me back down.”

Joe took a step toward her, his eyes filled with remorse, but she held up a hand to stop him. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Joe. I really don’t. But I need to get away from this for a while. I can’t… I can’t keep doing this.”

Without waiting for him to respond, Keyshia turned and walked away, her pace quickening as she put more distance between herself and the restaurant, more distance between herself and everything that had hurt her. She didn’t know what the future held, or if she could truly forgive Joe. But for now, she needed to be alone.

She needed to breathe. To remember who she was before the chaos of it all swept her under.

52 notes · View notes